


crossed all the lines, broke all the rules

by smads



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Apex - Freeform, Apex Legends, Exhaustion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, as always, elliott needs a hug, elliotts mom has dementia, hey Siri am I a sadist, i enjoy making characters cry, mention of self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smads/pseuds/smads
Summary: Elliott gets a call from his mother’s home nurse.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	crossed all the lines, broke all the rules

The bar buzzed with chatter. Their games had gone well today, overall. Octane’s team took the win, Crypto’s coming in a close second. Everyone was several drinks in to their celebration—they had the next few days off for the ring and other tech to be updated. Elliott always loved when his bar was humming with people. His friends, specifically. It was loud, and sometimes a lot, especially if you’d had three shots of tequila.   
  


A hand slapped on his shoulder.

“Nice job today,” Crypto smiled coyly, leaning back on the bar against his elbows. Elliott took a sip of his drink, nodding.

  
“Hey, thanks, you too.” He wasn’t actually so bad, once you got to know him, Crypto. Everyone thought he was cold but in reality, he had a good heart buried somewhere deep beneath all of the walls and padlocked doors concealing secrets none of them would likely ever learn. He liked to skateboard, and enjoyed EDM music, and his favorite color was electric orange, not the signature green everyone associated with him. He cared deeply about his friends, and seldom spoke of his family, Elliott noticed, but that didn’t bother him. After all, most of them had painful family shit. Anita and her brothers, Octavio and his parents, Hound and their uncle, Elliott himself and his...entire family. Crypto droned on about something drunkenly, and Elliott let his mind wander. He hadn’t spoken to his mom in a few days. Her nurse hadn’t made contact. Not that that was unusual, it did happen from time to time if Evie was having a particularly bad week. Elliott winced. Apparently, Crypto was paying more attention than Elliott thought.

“What?” His face seemed almost offended, “I thought you liked the mix I sent you!”

“Damn, I’m sorry, man, I...” he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “I wasn’t really listening. Sorry.”

Crypto laughed and reached to tousle Elliott’s hair a bit, “are you ever, Witt?”

Elliott managed half a smile, but was suddenly really worried about his mom, plus drunk and guilty for not trying to reach her. 

“You good?” Crypto’s face flashed with concern, if just for a second.

“Y-yeah, peachy, I just. I gotta go. Had too much, uh, too much...” Elliott trailed off, shoving his hand in his pocket and palming his phone, turning toward the door.

“Hey,” Crypto’s hand caught his elbow, “seriously, Witt, are you okay? You got mad quiet there and...that’s not like you.” He teased halfheartedly.

Crypto, at first, wasn’t big on touch. He had mostly kept to himself when he first got to the games, and only made contact if he had to. Now, it had been a year and he was much more relaxed. His guard was still up most of the time, but when it wasn’t, holy shit was he touch-starved. They only really got to see that side of him when he was drunk, which he was, and Elliott could tell.

“I’m good. Promise.” Elliott flashed that million-dollar smile, fake as it was, and headed for the storeroom. It was late on Solace, but he needed to try to talk to his mom.

——————

The phone rang a whole five, painstakingly long times before finally, finally, Evie’s nurse picked up.

“Elliott? Is everything okay? It’s late...”

“Yeah, sorry, Carla. I know. I just—I haven’t—how’s mom?” He leaned against the door, letting his head hit the cool wood and cracking his back against it. Carla was silent for a long time. Elliott’s pulse increased, he felt, with every second.

“I was waiting to call you until I knew more,” she admitted. Fuck. Oh, god. Elliott sighed, preparing himself for the worst, as he balled his free hand into a fist, digging his fingernails into his own palm.

“Elliott, I’m so sorry. I don’t...I don’t think she has much time. We’re going to the doctor in the morning but...she doesn’t want to eat.” Elliott felt his blood run cold. He chewed anxiously on the insides of his lips.

“Uh,” he started, voice thick, “did you, uh, want me to come home?” he sniffed, wiping the back of his hand under his eyes.

“You can, if you can get away, but I’ll warn you, El, she doesn’t know who you are. I try to turn on your games for her, but she doesn’t like it. It bothers her and she doesn’t know why. I’m sorry.” He could hear the pain in Carla’s voice. She was a childhood friend of his brother’s and now his mother’s home nurse. She had felt nearly all of the grief the Witt family had felt themselves over the years. He struggled to speak without giving himself away.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s okay, Car, we knew it would happen.” His voice shook, against his will, and he absentmindedly fiddled with the stacks of extra napkins folded on the shelf in front of him.

“Elliott,” Carla’s voice was softer now, she was trying to be comforting. Elliott was like a little brother to her, and she knew that signing on for this position would be painful, “hey, you don’t have to come home if it’s too...much. I know.”

Elliott pulled the phone away from his ear for a second to allow himself a sob of a breath, placing his hands on his knees, bending over. “Yeah, thanks, Car, uh, I’ll see. I don’t, uh, I don’t know if I can get away this weekend.”

“That’s okay, El. You’re busy. Just...keep doing what you’re doing. She would be—is...is so proud of you.” Elliott silently sobbed.

“Thanks, Carla, I gotta go. Thank you. For everything.”

“Elliott, wait—“ he hung up on her. She immediately tried calling him back, but he turned his phone off. He was so angry at the whole goddamn world that just kept taking everything from him, and not giving any way to fix it. He could still hear the music thrumming through the speakers, and the laughter of his friends. He grabbed one of the napkins from the shelf and wiped his face. He was going to have to go through them to get out, and he sure as hell couldn’t look like he did. He gave himself a few minutes to regroup, and went to the kitchen to splash cold water on his face to lessen the puffiness around his eyes.

When he entered back into the barroom, only a few people were left. Natalie had left with Renee, Anita left shortly after Makoa, both had flights to catch in the morning, and Octavio left by himself, claiming he was so exhausted from being Champion that he needed to sleep “until kingdom come” which left him and Crypto pretty much alone, save for Bloth, who was peacefully resting in a corner booth. Crypto nursed his drink, perched thoughtfully on a stool at the bar, playing with his glass.

“Hey, I gotta, uh, I gotta go. I can give you the key if you wanna close up, just, l-leave it outside my door later or whatever.” “Oh, I can go if—“ “Nah, it’s fine. Just make sure you turn off all the lights and lock the storeroom. Thanks.” Elliott tossed him the key and brushed past him. Weird, Crypto thought, Elliott was almost never a man of few words. He knew something was up with him, but given how little he liked other people in _his_ business, decided to leave it alone. He finished off his drink and closed the bar down, just as Elliott had instructed. He figured he would just take the key back now. It was three in the morning, and he knew Elliott would be sleeping, so it would save them any unwanted encounters. He took the steps up to Elliott’s room two at a time, and dipped the key in the mailbox. To his surprise, loud music was coming from inside. His face turned beet red. Elliott had wanted to get out of there to be with someone. That’s why he was acting so weird. Crypto closed his eyes, and tried to swallow the feeling, that he assured himself wasn’t actually jealousy, pooling in his throat.

——————

The next morning, Crypto went to grab himself breakfast off compound. He had this little place he loved that made Korean short ribs, like Mystik used to, but with egg and pickled cabbage and cheese. He ascended the stairs to the landing where the elevators were, knowing he’d have to go past Mirage’s suite and hoping he didn’t run into whomever he was with the night before on their walk of shame. But, he didn’t. Instead, he heard music still pounding from inside the door, and small, mechanical whirring sounds. Elliott must have been working on his tech, his escapade from the night previous must have already gone. Crypto almost knocked and offered him breakfast, but decided against it. They were friends, but barely. Elliott didn’t know tons about him, and he didn’t know tons about Elliott, at least not beneath surface level. 

Honestly, vulnerability was a struggle for him. For most of them. He was here in hiding, and compromising that with deeper friendships was too risky. Save for the one night in the bunker, he was a private person. So, he stayed at a happy, superficial level of relationship with everyone, and nobody asked questions and everything was fine. Sure, fine, maybe he teased Elliott a little more than the others, or let him in just a bit more, but that didn’t matter. Elliott was charming, as much as he hated to admit it, and hard to say no to. After thanking the woman for his breakfast sandwich and tossing her a massive tip, he ran errands for a few hours before heading back to the compound.

He promised Ajay he would work on some upgrades for DOC this weekend, since they were both still on site. She wanted him to be able to extend his healing to a small radius, rather than just connected to his tubes, so that her squadmates would be able to loot or down enemies without having to worry about being physically tethered to DOC. He honestly wanted Elliott’s help with it, tech was his thing too, after all, and two brains were better than one. He texted them both, asking Ajay if Elliott was okay to tag along, and asking Elliott if he had time to help. Ajay was excited for the help, but Elliott never responded, even after a double text from him, and one from Ajay. 

—————

“He ignored your text, too?” Ajay quirked an eyebrow. Elliott almost never turned down an opportunity to work on DOC. Proving to his fellow legends that he was “more than just the prettiest face in the Outlands” was a favorite pastime of his. He was constantly working to try to improve DOC’s revive shield, trying to introduce a cloaking component to it so that whoever was being revived would go invisible for a few seconds, eliminating the chance for them to be immediately downed.

“Yeah. Weird. He was up late last night, though.” Crypto cleared his throat and unscrewed the plate he was working on. DOC whirred happily.

“Oh yeah?” Ajay nudged his shoulder teasingly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed, squinting at the tech in his hands.

“I see the way ya look at each other,” Ajay laughed.

What the fuck?

“The way we look at each other? Ajay, please. I fucking hated him until recently, and that’s only because he saved my ass from Caustic during the whole Loba shit.”

“Bullshit, Park,” she joked, “that boy has looked at you like ya hung the moon since ya got here.”

He felt himself tense and prayed to whoever the fuck was listening that she didn’t notice. He couldn’t help, though, thinking about Elliott.

“He looks at everyone like that, Ajay, he’s a flirt,” he snapped the final part into place, “okay, so, DOC should be able to heal in a radius now. He should only need the pumps and tubes if he’s reviving. As for the shield and cloaking, that’s Witt's area. I can go grab him, if you want.”

“Nah, let him...do whatever it is he does when we aren’t around. Thank ya, Tae, you know I always appreciate ya help.” She squeezed his shoulder a little bit, and he waved his goodbye.

——————

He didn’t go past Elliott’s on the way back. He was fixated on what Ajay said, and the idea of running into him during his small spiral was...too much. Instead, he went home, cooked himself some dinner, and hopped in the shower. He heard his phone ding mid-shampoo and reached out to check it. He would never outwardly admit it, of course, but the fact that none of them on compound had heard from Elliott in damn near 24 hours had to be a record, and an alarming one at that. He shut off the water and toweled off his hands before grabbing his phone. It was a text from Elliott. His pulse quickened and he cleared his throat. 

“Sorry. Just saw this.”

That was...it? Not that he minded when Elliott would actually shut the fuck yup for once, but this was just plain out of character.

“All good. DOC’s shield still needs cloaking, but I got the radial healing worked out.” He replied. 

“Good.”

Something was definitely off. All of his quiet brooding allowed for a lot of observation, and Elliott was never like this. One word texts were not the name of his game. Usually it was double, triple, and sometimes even quadruple texts littered with emojis and punctuation. Imagine texting a golden retriever, and that’s what texting Elliott Witt was normally like. So this brevity was offputting, to say the very least. He finished up with his shower, grabbed two wine coolers from the fridge, the ones he knew Elliott liked, and all the courage he could muster, and set off. 

When he got there, he stood outside the door for a couple minutes, trying to talk himself into knocking. They weren’t even friends like this. The one time Elliott had seen Crypto upset was quick, and in the loot bunkers the first time he heard Mila’a voice on those damned recordings. And even that still bothers him, the way that Elliott kindly searched his face with his eyes, the way that he asked permission before touching him, the way that he wiped away the one stray tear that had managed to get past. The way that Elliott kept that secret for weeks from everyone else, just to protect him. Fuck. He took a deep breath, letting his guard fall, and knocked. 

And knocked again. 

And again.

“Elliott?” He grabbed the doorknob, more than a little worried now. It was locked. 

“Elliott. Hey, it’s me. I, uh, I don’t really know what I’m doing but I brought drinks and I thought we could...I don’t know, talk or something?” He felt immediately stupid.

Talk? Oh, hell. He knocked one more time before hearing the lock click. The door still didn’t open. But the way he was vibrating internally made him think Elliott was just on the other side. 

“I-okay, I’m coming in.” He didn’t know what he expected to see from his newly silent friend. Maybe lots of booze, or decoys throwing a makeshift rave, Elliott at the center, or a half naked someone in his bed. But it was definitely, definitely not this. Elliott was sat at a small writing desk, tinkering with something in front of him that he couldn’t see, even when he craned his neck. He set the drinks on the counter. 

“Whatcha workin on?” He tried to start conversation, but Elliott just humphed dismissively. 

“Okay...where have you been all day?” He tried again. This time with a different approach, but Elliot still just stayed facing away from him, knee tucked under his chin, fiddling with the piece of tech in front of him. He was getting frustrated now. Why ignore everyone? Why let him in if he wasn’t going to talk to him? Why did he disappear for a half hour at the bar last night and then want to leave immediately afterward, why was he up all night? And why, why the hell did he care so much about any of this? 

He decided on a different approach, and crossed the floor to the desk where Elliott was sitting. When he drew closer, and could almost make out his expression, Elliott turned his head and sniffed.

Oh, shit. Something really was wrong.

He softened. “Elliott, can you look at me?” He placed his hand nervously on the back of Elliott’s chair. He was met again with silence. 

“Are you hungry?” He released his grip on the chair, and wandered into the kitchen. He sighed, “Elliott, when was the last time you ate?” 

He knew the other man was deeply upset, but he also knew he didn’t feel like getting into vulnerability hours right now. But, god, did it pain him to see Elliott like that. Still, and silent. Absolutely no classic Elliott Witt charm that they all loved so much. That he loved so much. He opted to try to get Elliott to have some water instead. He was still in the same clothes from the bar last night, and he was worried that he hadn’t moved from that spot all day. He found a glass, and filled it halfway from the spigot. 

“Can you, uh, can you try to drink this? I can tell something’s wrong, and I don’t wanna pry, but it-it looks like you haven’t moved from that spot all day. He offered him the water, and Elliott turned his face away again, using the heel of his hand to wipe at his face. When his sleeve pulled up a little, he could see tiny, crescent shaped indents on his wrist, some deeper, and more bruised than others. Without thinking, he grabbed Elliott’s arm, tugging his sleeve up the whole way. He placed the glass on the desk. 

“Elliott, what the fuck?” He traced the spots gently with his cool fingers, illiciting a small gasp from Elliott.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did that hurt?” He kneeled next to the other man, gingerly placing his hand on Elliott's thigh. 

“Elliott, I- I know we don’t really...can you look...at me? I-I’m worried about you, and—“ 

Elliott turned halfway toward him, and damn, he looked like hell. His face was red, eyes nearly swollen shut, lips puffy and raw and bleeding, the bags under his eyes were deep purple, like he hadn’t slept.

“Are you happy now?” Elliott finally said, voice hoarse and weak with emotion.

“N-no. Are you-is everything-“ of fucking course it wasn’t, he thought, “what can I do? How can I help?”

“I don’t want your help. You said it yourself, we don’t talk about shit like this.” Elliott sniffed and Tae Joon damn bear cried himself. He hated seeing him like this, consumed by grief.

“I told you about Mila.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He didn’t want to blackmail Elliott into talking. He wanted him to feel comfortable enough to do it on his own. He forced himself to try to make eye contact with the other man, pleading with him to talk. 

“Ell, please,” he isn’t sure when they started using nicknames, but he’d heard Renee call him that a time or two. He moved to stand, and placed his hand on Elliott’s shoulder. His shirt was damp with sweat. And for a second, he almost, almost thought he saw Elliott’s head tilt toward his hand. It’s like he wanted to be comforted, but didn’t know how. Elliott’s phone lit up, and he snatched it immediately, but not before Tae could see that he had nearly 20 voicemails from Carla, his mom’s nurse. Suddenly, it all made sense. 

“Oh, fuck, Elliott, what happened?” His voice was caught in his throat. Without warning, Elliott stood and threw his phone to the side, staggering a bit as he turned around. He realized then that not only was he sleepless, and hungry, but he had been drinking. Heavily drinking.

“Hey, I gotcha,” he reached out his hands to steady him, but Elliot shoved them out of the way.

“God damn it,” and then, he hugged him. Hard, and from behind, Elliott thrashing against the embrace, sobbing and screaming to be let go. Crypto himself started softly tearing up then. Elliott was breaking his heart. Finally, his knees collapsed, and he was helped to the ground, a shaking mess, as Crypto’s grip on him never faltered. In all his time helping to upgrade DOC, he had learned a few tricks from Ajay. She was a wealth of knowledge and he enjoyed listening to her talk about her passions, from drumming, to her family, to her complicated friendship with Octavio, to her medical training. He had learned this from her, a method to calm someone who was being otherwise insubordinate: pressure therapy. Like a weighted blanket, but the blanket is a person. 

“Fucking let me go, Tae!” Elliott yelled. The shouting of his real name stung a bit, honestly.

“No. Elliott, calm down. Hey. Hey! Calm down or I swear to god I will call Ajay and have her sedate you.” He drew one hand from around Elliott’s midsection to his face, wiping a tear that was on the verge of dripping from his chin. And, for whatever reason, that worked. Elliott’s yelling stopped, and he rolled to the side, out of his grip, knees drawn to his chest, still heavily sobbing. Tae adjusted his position, and pulled Elliott’s head into his chest. He slid his fingers into his curls, and slowly, comfortingly, played with them. Elliott’s arms snaked around Tae, balling his shirt into messy fists. 

“I’m here. You’re going to be okay, Elliott. I’m here.” He used his free hand to rub Elliott’s back rhythmically, trying to soothe his shaking frame. He could tell he actually did need this. His breathing was starting to regulate now.

“Do you wanna talk about her?” Tae offered, tilting Elliott’s face up to his. So intimate. Ugh, he thought.

“She’s dying, Tae.” He choked.

Tae drew in a sharp breath and pulled him slightly closer. Elliott was practically in his lap now and he really, really tried not to think about it.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry, Elliott. How much longer?”

Elliott shrugged, “hell if I know. Carla told me last night and...yeah. She was supposed to see her doctor today. She stopped eating.” 

Tae Joon drew lazy circles on Elliott’s back with his fingers, and he shivered from the touch. 

“I wish there was something else I could say, or do for you. I’d do anything if I knew it would help.” Tae rested his chin on the top of Elliott’s head. He was in so fucking deep, and had hardly even realized it.

“I know.” Elliott pulled away, “thanks for being so persistent, and I’m sorry I ignored you guys. I just...I spent most of the day panicking and I didn’t want anyone, especially you, to see me like that. I didn’t want help.” He tried not to let the blush creeping up his neck to reflect on his cheeks, but to no avail.

“Yeah. I know. You...you can always call me, you know? I do...I really care about you, Elliott, I mean, I know we’re not really—“ 

Elliott stopped him mid-sentence. He leaned forward, sudden and needy, and pressed his lips to Tae’s. 

What the fuck? Maybe Ajay was right. Tae hesitated a second, just long enough that Elliott started to pull away, and then lifted his hand to cup Elliott’s cheek, assuring him. Elliott turned, never breaking contact, and straddled Tae’s hips. He begged his brain to think, think of anything else but the rising heat he felt slowly overtaking his body with every single desperate peck of Elliott’s lips. He knew this was probably just a distraction. I mean, the guy’s mom was dying for fuck’s sake. There’s no way he was actually interested in Tae Joon for anything besides pity, right? 

Wrong, apparently. Elliott’s hand, rough and sure, found Tae’s lower back and pressed him forward, sending shivers down Tae’s spine and causing his hips to rock forward a little. Elliott gasped at the friction. As hard as he was trying to not think about any of this, kissing Elliott felt really fucking good.

“Elliott, we-“ he stuttered as Elliot found the spot on his neck that sent him into a tailspin. He pulled Elliott forward reflexively, hooked an arm around his back and pushed them both backwards against the wall. Elliott’s hands were up his shirt, and exploring, and oh god, if Tae didn’t say something soon he wouldn’t say anything at all,

“Elliott we should stop,” and it physically pained him to break contact with the other man, who, Tae could tell, was seconds from reverting back to humiliated crying. He swiped a thumb over his cheek.

“Hey, it’s not that. You have to know it’s not that. I am...very into what’s happening,” he blushed, laughing a little, “but it’s not a good time. It’s not a good...coping mechanism. How about I make you dinner? Or we can get takeout, whatever you want, we just...we can’t do this...right now.” 

Elliott’s head fell to his shoulder, placing a series of small kisses on his collarbone. Ignoring the fact that that was making this whole situation ever harder, he placed his hands on Elliott’s hips, signaling him to move.

“You should really check your voicemails, El,” He tucked a loose strand of curls behind his ear, and intertwined their fingers. Elliott looked at him, painfully.

“I just won’t be able to handle it if—“ 

“I know,” Tae brought the other man’s hand to his lips, closed his eyes, and placed a small kiss on the back of his hand, “I’m here. I’m with you. I’m not leaving, okay?” 

Elliott nodded, and unlocked his phone. He pressed play on the first of Carla’s messages, and listened to them all the way through, tears spilling over his cheeks again, which Tae wiped away. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but judging by Elliott’s response, it wasn’t good news. Tae tugged on one of Elliott’s arms, pulling him into a hug as he softly cried. Finally, he put his phone next to him. 

“Probably a week.” his voice was quiet, and shook impossibly. Tae sighed and turned Elliott’s face toward him. 

“Okay. Do you wanna go home?”

“I don’t know if I can lose another person I love, Tae, I—“ He kissed his hairline.

“I know.” They were both quiet for a long time, the heavy air punctuated with the occasional sniff from Elliott.

“Will you come with me? I know that’s crazy, and we didn’t even talk about earlier yet and I—“ Tae silenced him, quickly, by pulling him into a kiss by the collar of his shirt.

“Yes. Of course. I—I wish I had someone with me for Mila. I was just so angry and so alone for so long, and I—“ he was rambling, “yes. Yes.” 

“Thank you. Seriously. For...everything.” He squeezed his hand.

“It’s my pleasure, really.” Tae smiled sweetly, and damn if Elliott didn’t feel like his heart was going to fall through his ass.

“And...about earlier—“ Tae started, but Elliott cut him off.

“No. That was all me. I’m so sorry, I never should’ve taken advantage of you like that, you’re right, we don’t even really—“ 

Now it was Tae’s turn to interrupt,

“Shut up. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that to happen.” Elliott raised his eyebrows for a second, before busting into laughter. God, he hoped he got to hear that sound forever. 

“Wait, really?” Elliott beamed a little.

“You’re an idiot,” Tae tousled his hair gently, but also leaned in for a slow, deep kiss. 

“I guess I can take that as a yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah I’m sorry


End file.
